


Queens Can't Sleep

by petaldancing



Series: ten years too long and too short [1]
Category: Hyouka
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M, Gen, Ten Years Later, i just have a lot of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 20:25:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petaldancing/pseuds/petaldancing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Stop.” — Mayaka, Satoshi, bestselling shoujo, pink ties, early mornings and leaving everything behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> AU, in which Satoshi never told Mayaka he liked her on Valentine’s Day, resulting in them never getting together in high school.

_(part 1 of 3)_

花

“Ibara, the sales numbers are in and they’re ordering a reprint of volume seven!”

“Ah, that’s great. Thanks as always for your guidance, Yamamoto-san.”

“Stop with the formalities, Ibara. We’ve been working together for over two years already.”

“I know, I know,” Mayaka says, hoping that the slight twinge of frustration doesn’t show in her voice. Yamamoto’s always been a dense character when manuscripts aren’t concerned, so she doesn’t need to worry too much about that. She taps her fingernail against the surface of her cluttered desk. “Um, Is there anything else you need to tell me, Yamamoto-san? I’m kind of– ” 

“Oh right! The reason why I called was to remind you that chapter 54’s manuscript is due tomorrow evening. I’ll come and collect it around the usual time, alright?” her editor cuts in. Mayaka rubs her hand against her forehead. Ao plucks a tissue out of its box and passes it to her. Mayaka examines her hand, finding ink stains on them and now most likely on her forehead too.

“S-sure thing,” she answers Yamamoto as she wipes the tissue against her forehead.

“Always reliable, Ibara!” And he hangs up after that, the phone line clicking off. Mayaka immediately tosses it over onto the sofa and slams her hands on her desk to get everyone’s attention. “Where are the screentones for page 5, 12 and 22?”

Midori waves them at her from her desk.

“Outlines for pages 10 to 25?”

“I’m halfway through them!” Ao chimes.

“How many pages are officially done, then?” Mayaka uncaps a marker, tracing the finishing touches on the cover page of the chapter. Beneath it are a thin stack of pages she still has to make edits to. It’s ten o’ clock at night.

“Only four, Ibara-san!” Akai shouts from her corner.

Mayaka sighs. She shoves her sleeves up to her elbows. “We’re going to have to pull an all-nighter, girls!”   

志

Satoshi purchases the latest issue of _Margaret_ from a convenience store and immediately thumbs his way through to the manga he’s interested in. Mayaka’s done a great job this time too, the cover page full of life even though it’s been printed in black and white, the heroine and her crush dressed in quirky outfits that teens these days would never think of wearing.

He dog-ears the first page and clamps the magazine under one arm. Stepping out of the store, he catches the time flashing across an electronic mega-screen on one of the taller buildings in the district. He still has about half an hour to spare before he has to get back to his office for another afternoon of wading through articles and phone calls. He wishes that the off-peak season would end soon. Being a travel writer is only fun when he gets to actually do some travelling. He’d discovered this in the early part of the years with his current company.

As he strolls past a well-furnished bakery, he comes to a stop at the display and peers inside. When he confirms that they’re selling mango cakes, he smiles and pushes the door aside as a bell rings overhead.   

…

“Hello, Ibara residence.” Midori is the one who answers the phone. She’s a quiet and stalwart college girl majoring in arts, better known as the assistant who’s been working with Mayaka the longest - ever since she started her first long-running series in _Margaret_ over two years ago. Midori’s most defining trait is her hair, always tamed in its cute little bob.

“Midori-san? It’s Satoshi,” he says as he boards the train. “Will Mayaka be free today? I bought too many cakes during lunch. I’d like to pass some to her. I should have enough to share with the rest of you too.”

When Midori doesn’t say anything after a few seconds, Satoshi wonders if it’s because the reception in the train tunnel is faulty. He shakes his phone out of habit, the phone charm clicking against its plastic. “Hello? Midori-san?”

“- sorry for that, Fukube-san. I’m doing the action lines of two pages and adding tones to another. Ibara-san is doing twice the amount I am, so I don’t think she’ll be able to come to the phone,” Midori suddenly replies, as if remembering that she’s on the phone, sounding almost out of breath. Satoshi checks his wristwatch. It’s a Friday. Mayaka usually submits her chapters on Friday nights. That explains it.

“Do you need me to go over to help out later?”

Midori repeats the question to Mayaka over the sound of pens dancing and pages flipping. “No, it’s alright. Ibara-san is confident that we’ll be done by the evening. You can come after then, she says. She’s asking if you can buy dinner for the three of us. Akai-chan, Ao-chan and me, I mean. We haven’t eaten anything other than bread the entire day.”

“What about Mayaka?”

“Ibara-san’s asking me to put the phone down now, Fukube-san! Talk to you later!”

Midori hangs up just as the train emerges out of the underground tunnel. Satoshi eyes the map printed above the doors in the dizzying lunch crowd. Still over four stops to go before he reaches his office. Beyond that, Mayaka’s place is only three stops away, one interchange station in between. He hopes the cakes will survive the journey till then. 

…

Satoshi thinks that the odds of the cakes’ survival are pretty low now. Having been squashed in the packed train at the end of the working day, and being accidently flung around in a crowded shopping mall as Satoshi bought dinner for Mayaka and her assistants, it’s a miracle that the box is still mostly intact.

He wallows a little in the tragedy of crushed cake as he nears Mayaka’s apartment building. At the lobby, he bumps into Midori and the others. Akai quickly relieves him of the three bowls of takeaway ramen while Ao apologises profusely for making him carry their dinners all the way up the street, her pigtails swishing up and down.

“I hope you and Ibara-san have a nice dinner together,” Midori comments offhandedly and Satoshi has to remind the three of them for the umpteenth time that, ‘we’re not like that’, and he tries not to come off as irritated, because if they mention anything like that around Mayaka, he wonders how much hurt she has to hide.

“Yeah, yeah,” Akai hums, skeptical behind her glasses. She’s always come off as rather intimidating, and the fact that she’s taller than him doesn’t help.

Satoshi grinds the heel of one loafer into the tiled floor. “You don’t talk to Mayaka about silly things like these, do you?”

“We tease her sometimes. You know how ladies are,” Midori says.

“Don’t.” His voice is level but the plastic bag in his hand crinkles when he tightens his grip. “… we’re not like that, so don’t bring it up,” Satoshi repeats. The girls huddle together and shrink in unison, his reply unexpectedly heavy for them.

“We’re sorry!” Ao is the first to speak.

“We were just kidding,” Akai adds, rolling her eyes.  

Satoshi produces his usual practiced laugh to break the tension. “It’s fine!” he says with a grin. “I might have been overreacting, sorry ‘bout that.” He hands them the cakes as well. “You guys can take these on your way out too. They’re a little misshapen but go and have a party with them!”

Akai frowns a little, as if to say ‘hooray, leftover cake’ and Ao makes sure that they pay him back the exact amount the meals cost and Midori smiles pleasantly before the three of them take their leave, expressive and lively in their youth. Thinking about it that way makes Satoshi seem old, but being twenty-five isn’t exactly a flattering number compared to Midori’s twenty-one and Ao’s eighteen.

He takes the lift up to Mayaka’s apartment on the eighth floor and rings the doorbell with his free hand, his briefcase and her dinner in the other. He looks at the shoerack just outside as he waits for her to answer the door, half-empty now that the assistants have left. For a girl, Mayaka has very little shoes. She only owns one pair of slippers, another pair of sneakers, and some flats that have minimalist designs and quiet colours. Her heels, he remembers her having about three pairs or so, are stored in the closet behind the door – Satoshi knows far too much about her shoes.

After all this, Mayaka still hasn’t come to the door. He crouches to face the two potted plates sitting next to the gate and lifts one to find the ring of keys hidden underneath. He unlocks the gate and front door, calling out her name before he enters the apartment just incase she’s in the shower or something. He’s just here to deliver the food. He can leave it on the dining table and go off after that. This had been his initial plan, careful and foolproof. However, when there is no reply, Satoshi quickly closes the door behind himself and hurries into the living room. He finds Mayaka lying on the floor, spreadeagled and unmoving, chest rising and falling at a gentle pace. She must be exhausted from rushing her manuscript. This pattern of hers is not new. Sometimes she’s asleep at her desk and sometimes on the sofa – choosing to doze off on the floor is new though. Satoshi places his things on the table and carries her to bed.      

“You’ve got to stop overworking yourself like this,” he whispers quietly even though she can’t hear him.

He puts her down on the mattress and is prepared to let go of her. What he isn’t prepared for is Mayaka reaching out and pulling him closer to her.

“Mayaka?”

“Stop. Don’t go,” she whispers into his shirt, eyes still closed.

“Mayaka, don’t,” Satoshi begins, but Mayaka’s still tugging and he rests one knee on her covers. “Mayaka, we’re not supposed to be like this.”

“What did you buy me for dinner?” she asks, throwing him off guard.

“Char siew ramen with extra spring onion,” he answers, her favourite, and falls into her trap.

“That’s what I thought,” Mayaka says, sounding pleased yet saddened by the fact. She cracks open her eyes, looking beautiful without even trying. She exhales against his collarbone, loosening his tie, “You have as much blame in this as me.”

Satoshi feels taken aback, and he can’t give her a reply that doesn’t implicate himself. Mayaka kisses the skin underneath his collar and he gives up and gives in because this isn’t the first time they’re doing this. That should be reason enough for him to step away but Mayaka’s hands are smeared with ink and her hair smells familiar and sometimes, in rare moments like these that he can’t control, Satoshi ends up loving her more than he hates himself, if only for a while. This reminds him of high school graduation.

In the end, it’s the same result even if he gives in or doesn’t give in to Mayaka, the only difference is which lets him fall asleep with less guilt clouding his mind.

* * *

 

Their first time is only months after they graduate from university. They’re twenty-three. That particular week, Chitanda claps her hands once, summoning everyone to her father’s favourite bar just twenty minutes away from the Chitanda estate for an impromptu meet-up.

Chitanda is a person of elaborate schedules and perfect order and informing people a month in advance about appointments and the like, so when she calls Mayaka up one evening, embarrassed and apologetic for telling her on ‘such short notice’, Mayaka and Satoshi are ready to depart the next afternoon. They live in different parts of Tokyo, but it wouldn’t make sense to return to Kamiyama separately. So common sense is the only thing dictating that they should meet at a train platform, pride and awkwardness and love stomped under the soles of their shoes. Just like always. 

It takes them over five hours to return to Kamiyama. It’s a three and a half hour commute from Tokyo to Okayama, followed by transferring to another railway from Okayama to reach the Tokushima prefecture where little Kamiyama is nestled.

Mayaka and him make light conversation and read books during the first half of the trip. They hit it off with the elderly man sitting across from them. Satoshi has always assumed the generic old man to be cranky. This one had been too, arms folded and staring off into the scenery running past the window. Maybe it’s because Mayaka is around, but when she offers the old man a spare onigiri for afternoon tea, the frown flips into an open smile. He’d looked lonely, without any packed snacks. Now he looks like the happiest octogenarian on earth.

 Mayaka doesn’t believe or isn’t aware of the effect she has on people. Because of her childlike face and friendly way of speaking, she naturally attracts a lot of good first impressions. It’s always been that way since middle school. Of course, when she reveals she isn’t as demure or as tolerant as her face reflects, people skulk away, disillusioned. Mayaka never lets it get to her. Satoshi lov–… Satoshi likes that part of her.  

“You both on a trip?”

“We’re going back to our hometown to visit friends,” he says as Mayaka unwraps her own onigiri.

“Ah, what a coincidence. I’m going back to mine to visit my wife,” the old man chuckles as he makes his way through the riceball. “It’s nice to get away from the city for awhile.” He reaches into his shirt pocket for a handkerchief to wipe the stray rice off his face. After folding it neatly and adjusting his bow tie, he adds, “Us countryfolk feel so out of place in the hustle and bustle of big ol’ Tokyo, eh?”

“It’s true,” Satoshi says with a nod. He sometimes misses the unhurried pace of life in Kamiyama. “But if that’s the case, why do you live in the city?”

The old man chews thoughtfully and swallows. “My kid’s family is over there. ‘Course I’d follow them, I’d be pretty lonely otherwise. I can complain all I want with them. At least they’re there to hear me. If I’d stayed in the country, there’d be no one around to hear me. Humans are hypocritical, aren’t they? Demanding one thing and then not wanting to accept the consequences of their demands. Or is it just me?”

“I think I understand,” Mayaka is the one who replies. She’s pouring orange juice out of a thermos and begins to offer it to him as well, only to have the old man wave his hand politely. “Diabetes,” he explains, and Mayaka transfers the cup into Satoshi’s hands instead. The old man pulls out his own thermos from his small bagpack, and the faint smell of green tea fills their half-emptied carriage.

“So, why’d your friends stay in the countryside?” he asks after a sip. “That’s pretty odd for young people like you these days.”

“They’re working, and they’re happy there,” Satoshi says. Houtarou and Chitanda never yielded much interest to city life, content to stay as they were for their own personal reasons. While staying or leaving Kamiyama were never big questions in the mellow mind of Houtarou, Chitanda always knew that she had to remain by her duties. Satoshi thinks it’s admirable of her to be able to stick to her guns, no matter how daunting they may be. Compared to her, he’s nothing much at all.  

“What about your wife, sir?” Mayaka asks curiously.

“She’s sleeping.”

“Oh, I see– ”

“No, no, it’s okay. I envy her to be honest. When it’s my time, I’ll join her here too. Not a bad place to rest, is it? Japan’s growing day by day, those skyscrapers getting taller and taller until I can’t see the top with my bad eyes. But one place they’ll never touch is the countryside.”

Satoshi and Mayaka can only nod quietly at that, not knowing what else to say. Satoshi can’t help but feel like he’s still a child compared to the person sitting idly opposite them.

“Anyway, you two together or -?”

“We aren’t!” When Mayaka raises her voice without warning, the old man jolts and clasps his heart. “Ah – I’m sorry, sir! Are you alright?”

“I’m okay,” he laughs as he lowers his hand, “that was a joke, you see.”

Mayaka falls back on her seat in relief. The senior chortles, pleased with himself. “Well, a sweet girl like her still trusts you enough to travel alone with you, boy. You’re very lucky.”  
  
“I know,” Satoshi says. He catches Mayaka bite her lip from the corner of his eye, blushing. Ah, he’s being careless.

The conversation after that quietens until they disembark at Okayama. They bid farewell to the friendly old man, Mayaka passing him a couple more riceballs for an early dinner as a parting gift. Before he turns to leave, the old man looks at Satoshi with a smile and something else that he doesn’t want to acknowledge.

Without a third party, Satoshi feels less obligated to talk. The less he talks to Mayaka the better, he thinks as they board the next train and find seats near the front. Of course, what he does never coincides with what he thinks. Satoshi tells himself, ‘you really are still just a brat’ when he asks her about Fuyamato Kasabe. Kasabe debuted in the shoujo manga scene recently – a mysterious manga artist who publishes oneshots every few months with a shockingly large nerve. Her stories all end in tragedy, with the heroine never quite managing to get together with her true love.

“Kind of depressing, huh? But they can’t relegate her stories to other genres because it still falls under the shoujo,” Satoshi comments. Mayaka nods, adjusting her reading glasses as she works on a storyboard for her next chapter. “She’s interesting,” she says, tapping her pencil against the shell of her ear.

They don’t bring up the fact that Mayaka uses his shoulder as a headrest for the second half of the ride to Kamiyama. It’s a tiring journey.

Mayaka has to continue her work the day after next and Satoshi’s waiting to get called in for a job interview. Because of that, they aren’t prepared to stay the night in their hometown. When they meet in front of a café, Chitanda frowns and says, ‘that’s a shame’ and trust Chitanda to sound like she really means it. Houtarou says, ‘maybe we can visit you both next time then’, sounding like he really means it too. Being around Chitanda has its benefits. Houtarou’s a far more sociable person now. It’s nice. But he still can’t smile to save his life. 

The four of them walk to the bar, Mayaka and Chitanda holding hands in the front with Satoshi and Houtarou bringing up the rear, nostalgia overtaking them. They talk about studies and job prospects and Houtarou tells Mayaka that he’s been religiously following the new chapters of her new publication in _Margaret_ and is waiting in fervent anticipation to see Neru’s love blossom in full bloom for the entire school to see. Mayaka nearly returns Houtarou’s gesture with a black eye.

“The fact that our Ibara is writing shoujo manga is surreal,” Houtarou mumbles to Satoshi, one hand cupped over his face as a precautionary measure now.

“It’s all about perspective, Houtarou!” Satoshi answers, and doesn’t like the fact that he sounds right. It’s a good thing the bar isn’t too far and they arrive before there’s a chance to sink too deep into reminiscing. Satoshi feels like an adult again when they are directed into a cosy booth and are handed a menu of alcoholic drinks. He and Mayaka are forced to sit together on one side by virtue of the fact that Houtarou and Chitanda can no longer sit apart. Mayaka puts her handbag between them and Satoshi fortifies the barricade by placing his scarf on top of it.

“It’s nice to see everyone again, but what’s this meeting about?” Satoshi asks as soon as they’ve finished ordering their food and drinks.

Chitanda sparkles and Houtarou leans on one elbow. “Ah, we didn’t want to say this too ahead of time, since there are still many things to plan, but…” she trails off, gazing thoughtfully at Houtarou. Houtarou doesn’t seem to accept the honour of revealing the news because he sips his green tea and keeps his eyes on his lap.

“Houtarou…” Mayaka warns him.

“Houtarou-san,” Chitanda asks him nicely.

“Houtarou!” Satoshi chirps, just to join in on the fun. 

Unable to bear his name being repeated three times, the man sighs and mumbles, “We’re… engaged.”

Mayaka sits back, her eyes widening shock. “Whaaaaat?” she draws it out, and Satoshi can’t help but laugh. Chitanda smiles appreciatively while Houtarou takes another sip from his cup, as if tea had the sudden ability to ail embarrassment. “Who would’ve thought that a slug could get married,” Mayaka continues, “not that there’s anything bad about it, Chi-chan!” she adds, turning her attention to Chitanda. The girls lace their hands together over the tabletop and chatter about the variety of wedding dresses to consider and let’s not forget kimonos and food and who to invite and where and when and the colour of the invitation cards.

“Congratulations!” Mayaka punctuates their whirlwind of a discussion with a smile, her mood doing a complete u-turn. 

“I’ll be looking forward to the wedding!” Satoshi stands up briefly to pat Houtarou’s shoulder and shake hands with Chitanda. “If you need any help with the planning, you know who to call!”

“That’s right!” Mayaka seconds.

Chitanda tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I was hoping you two would say that. We’re incredibly grateful! I just hope that we won’t trouble you too much.” Still thinking about others even when the spotlight is on her and Houtarou, Chitanda is a lady through and through. It makes sense that she would get married early for the sake of her family, and Houtarou probably doesn’t object because this is far easier than enduring a long, extensive courtship. The two of them are suited for each other and they’ve accepted it with minimal bumps on the way. Satoshi crosses his ankles and the grip on his jacket sleeve tightens, but a smile spreads across his face either way.

“What about you, Maya-chan? And Satoshi-sa– ” Chitanda stops halfway and looks to her left, where Houtarou is sitting.

“The food taking too long.” Houtarou ducks his head out of the booth and is answered with the waiter nearly ramming a tray against his forehead. Mayaka sighs at the lost opportunity while Chitanda and Satoshi rearrange the utensils to make way for the dishes. Secretly, Satoshi wants to thank Houtarou for changing the topic, but feels the inexplicable urge to punch him too. Satoshi diverts the conversation away from him and Mayaka – another useless talent in his repertoire, and the four of them spend the rest of the evening retelling stories from university and passing sushi across the table.

…

“When do you want to get married, Mayaka?” he asks her conversationally as they stroll back to the station. They need to make it there in fifteen minutes or they’ll miss the last train out of town.

“When do you?” she echoes.

“I don’t,” Satoshi says with his strongest smile.

Mayaka looks away from him, gluing her eyes to the street, her face shadowed under the night sky. They don’t say anything after that, until Mayaka trips against the kerb of the road and Satoshi grabs her elbow to keep her steady.

“Sorry,” she hiccups, still not looking up, “ – must have drank too much, my head’s a little…” she trails off, her completion healthy and her eyes clear. Satoshi remembers half-finished cups of sake and Chitanda’s hand, white and dignified and raised to ask for the bill, Houtarou’s heavy stares, Mayaka wiping her half-open mouth with a napkin. Everything else spins into a blur, and he props the blame against whatever alcohol he has in his system.

“I know what you mean,” he says, rubbing his knuckles against his forehead to make it more believable. “Do you want to sit down and rest somewhere first?”

Mayaka plonks herself down on the side of the empty street, drawing her knees up and open. It’s a good thing she’s wearing jeans.

“Mayaka, how about somewhere more comfortable?” 

“Like where?” she asks, sounding pissed. They can pretend that it’s because of the alcohol.

He holds his hand out to her and when she takes it and locks her fingers around his, Satoshi doesn’t try to stop himself anymore. They’re still just young enough to use an inexhaustive list of excuses for what happens next: Houtarou and Chitanda and the way their shoulders had grazed as they walked off in the opposite direction, not knowing right from wrong, having no self-control, loneliness, too much sake, an old man visiting the woman he loves waiting tens of thousands of kilometres away. Almost too many, it’s hard to decide which to pick for a scapegoat. The only thing they can agree on is the decision to kiss on that quiet street half cast in darkness. Mayaka’s lips are soft but the way she moves against his mouth is sharp like a blade, cutting deep but not deep enough for them to avoid the fact that it’s late and the last train is pulling out of the station. Her neck is pale and soft under the dim glow of the moon and he pulls her closer. 

花

They stagger into Satoshi’s old bedroom. His family is conveniently out of town for a trip, his room the way she remembers from the times she came to visit during her middle school and high school years. In the darkness, she can make out his bed, desk, and the wallpaper of bags he couldn’t pack with him to the city. Satoshi, eyes barely open, begins to say something, like ‘are you su– ’ but he doesn’t get to finish because she yanks him closer and bites onto his lower lip, too coarse for her own tastes, but enough to get the message across. Mayaka closes her eyes as the back of her knees press into the bed and she pulls Satoshi down with her when she falls.  
  
He breathes ‘sorry’s on her skin, one on her throat and another at the slant of her shoulders, then underneath her bra and on her stomach and into the dead end of her elbow. He kisses these apologies as if they could fix everything that’s happened and everything that will happen even though Mayaka is too stubborn for that to ever work. But the only thing she feels is happy. And she realizes, as his tongue skirts over the jut of her hipbone, that this is the happiest she will ever be.

* * *

 

志

When Satoshi opens his eyes, the bare white ceiling and the numerous posters of shoujo heroines pasted on the opposite wall makes him think ‘this isn’t my room’ and then he feels Mayaka’s waist under his palm and thinks ‘this isn’t mine either’. He can smell the uneaten ramen left on the counter outside and it’s too early for someone like him to be awake, but after a great determination that feels misplaced in such early hours of the morning, Satoshi wills himself off the pillow and away from the warmth of someone else sleeping next to him. As he untangles himself from her and the bedsheets, getting up to leave, Mayaka awakes with a start and snaps into attention, clutching onto him. He jerks back down onto the bed.

“Stop.”

“Mayaka, let go.”

“No.” Her face is buried against his side.

“Let go.”

“Not until you promise this isn’t going to be the last time.”

Satoshi can’t reply. He turns to face her, but not all the way, and eases a hand on her shoulder to persuade her to release him and she only grips tighter, her shoulder blades, small but hard, arching into his palm. Satoshi immediately removes his hand. “Mayaka,” he says, not quite knowing what he means because it’s five in the morning and this is the person he can’t help but love and she’s too much for him sometimes. 

“Satoshi,” she says, brave and challenging, reminding him of high school and happy afternoons locked away in a dusty room and Houtarou’s slouch and Eru’s eyes and the days where pretending to be happy hadn’t been so hard and he feels angry all of a sudden.

“ _Mayaka!_ ” he shouts this time, loud and furious, his muscles tensing. He forces himself off the mattress, dragging her along with him. He wants the bed to creak, their footsteps to bang loudly against the floor, any form of noise to explode and distract him. But there is no sound apart from their breaths, out of sync and desperate, and Satoshi wants to surrender but doesn’t want Mayaka to lose. She still refuses to let him escape, fingernails scratching against his skin, and Satoshi feels the hike of frustration subside when she cranes her neck to look up at him.

She isn’t crying, and it makes him feel like crying in return.

Satoshi slowly lowers himself onto the floor of her room, hands sliding onto his face, fingertips cold without Mayaka’s touch, and Mayaka guides herself around him like his heart is a map she’s learned to navigate. She’s warm and her arms are a home, small and safe, that he can’t go back to, but Satoshi has always been selfish and unfair so he hides himself against the corner of her shoulder. And he can’t be sure if he’s crying because Mayaka is being too much again, he forgets about himself when he’s too close to her.


	2. Part 2

_(part 2 of 3)_

花

Satoshi kisses Mayaka on Graduation Day.

It’s a kiss that reveals too much. Tells her how much he likes her and how much he tries not to show it and how much he doesn’t want to be with her. Mayaka doesn’t breathe, his lips still grazing hers, and for one heartbeat, she thinks that everything’s okay between them. The feeling quickly passes when she jumps back, slapping her hand over her mouth, reality catching up, curdling around her ankles. The back of the school gym is quiet and if this were a shoujo manga she’d be blushing and sputtering and her heart would be trilling ‘doki-doki’ but Mayaka doesn’t feel any of that now.

She wants to ask him ‘why’. After hurdling through middle school and high school, all those years of dodging and running away, of fending off her advances, before deciding it’s alright for him to kiss her just because it’s Graduation Day. It’s her first kiss. She’s angry. Of course she’s always wanted her first kiss to be Satoshi. _Of course._ But not like this. The worst of it all is that a huge part of her had still enjoyed it.

He looks at her, biting his lip, and Mayaka glares at her shoelaces, betrayed, even as a part of her still wants to bury into his arms and hope that he can make things better. But Satoshi knows how to make everything better only where it doesn’t concern her and him. In the end, she turns and runs and Satoshi doesn’t give chase.

In the auditorium bathed in the afternoon sun, the third years sing their school anthem with pride, sending their wishes and dreams soaring into the sky. In the girl’s restroom, Mayaka nurses her red eyes and flushes the soggy tissue paper down the toilet.

* * *

 

“What do you guys think?” Mayaka looks up from her drawing desk.

“Sorry, Ibara-san?” Ao asks, combing her hair to one side.

“Which ending is better for this story? The one where they get together and break up, or the one where they never get together to begin with?”

“Both suck, if you ask me,” Akai says, morose as she tones the pages.

“Which are you going to choose, Ibara-san?” Midori tilts her head.

Mayaka massages the ache in her right hand.

* * *

 

Houtarou and Eru get married in autumn, between summer’s heat and winter’s cold. It’s a nice season framed with orange leaves and the scent of change in the air. The wedding itself is traditional as per the Chitanda’s wishes, held at the Shinto shrine where Mayaka used to volunteer at during New Years. The reception is far less systematic and ceremonial – Eru sheds her thick, heavy kimono for a sophisticated gown, white and regal with a billowing skirt. The only similarity the two events share is the presence of Houtarou’s older sister: snapping photos with her digital camera nonstop, even more than Satoshi, and grinning at Houtarou’s dismay. Mayaka likes Houtarou’s sister.  
  
“How’s QCS?” Satoshi asks her during the reception. His gaze doesn’t stray for once and Mayaka thinks that maybe it’s because of the dress she’s wearing, red and off the shoulder. She makes a mental note to thank Eru for helping her pick it.

“It’s good. The third volume just got released and it got sold out pretty fast, so I hope I can keep this series going for the long run.”

“I think it’s nice. It’ll definitely be here to stay,” Satoshi says.

Mayaka pokes her fork at her rice. “You don’t have to read it, Fuku-chan,” she tells him, and Satoshi shakes his head in reply.

“I don’t read it because I have to. I read it because I want to.” And because he sounds sincere in that particular way of his, Mayaka doesn’t know what to reply without reminding him how much she loves him. They stop talking for a while after that as a few couples from the tables around them get up and move towards the ballroom floor. Mayaka places her fork down on the edge of the plate and lays her hands on her knees, one on top of the other. Before Satoshi has to avoid asking her to dance, someone taps his shoulder. It’s the bride.

“Ah, Chi – no, Eru-san. Sorry. I’m still not used to that name,” Satoshi laughs and squints, as if he’s blinded by her beauty.

“It’s fine, Satoshi-san. I was wondering if you would like to dance?”

“Gee, isn’t it usually the guy who asks the girl?” Satoshi chuckles. He still stands up from his chair to escort Eru to the open floor. Mayaka watches them go, trying to appreciate the remaining juice in her glass. Before she can wonder where Houtarou sneaked off to, she feels a familiar, gloomy presence hovering over her shoulder. She turns to see him standing awkwardly behind her chair and snickers at the sight of him packaged in a nice, ironed suit.

“What?” Mayaka asks, downing the rest of her drink.

Houtarou blinks. He holds a hand out to her.

“If you step on my feet, I’m going to punch holes in yours,” she says as she slides out of her seat.

“Such elegance becomes you, Ibara.”

…

“What?” Mayaka asks Houtarou for the second time that night. He’s an adequate waltzer. It’s pleasantly surprising and is such a feat that he earns a little more respect from Mayaka. Mayaka is stingy with the respect she offers to Houtarou. Eru must have forced him through some form of lessons. Houtarou moves with a quiet slowness that fits him and Mayaka doesn’t complain because it’s been a long time since she could slow down.   

“I was just wondering if Neru-chan is going to end up with Tobio or Hayato,” Houtarou replies, referring to the main love triangle in _Queen Can’t Sleep_.

“Neither,” she informs him, and revels at the sight of Houtarou’s face cringing at the spoilers. When he recovers and gives her a look, like he’s thinking hard, Mayaka eyes him with her own look, demanding him to speak.

Houtarou sighs. “That’s mean of you, Ibara. For once you have control over something and you still steer it to the worst possible end.”

Mayaka grips his arms tight as she hikes her foot, her skirt flaring. She aims before spearing her heel down hard.

* * *

 

志

“Fukube! Listen, listen– ” Ryou stops at his desk, perching her rear against the edge.

“’Morning, Ryou-san,” he says as he sorts through a stack of articles, tagging them appropriately for editing.

“Hey, is it just me, or are you wearing the same thing you did yesterday? That pink tie looks exactly like the one you had on.” The lady stares, edging closer to him.

“Um, I bought two of the same tie because I liked it. Anyway – what did you want to talk to me about?” Satoshi attempts to change the topic. Ryou raises an eyebrow at him, but decides to give him a little bit of leeway today. She must be in a generous mood. She harrumphs and leans back, folding her arms. Her dark hair, braided and ribboned in blue, sits on the curve of her shoulder.  

“You up for going drinking with the rest tonight?”

“I don’t mind tagging along, but I don’t think I’ll be drinking,” Satoshi says, wondering if Ryou will tease him again. There’s a probability that three out of five times, she teases him about his abstinence from sake. Satoshi’s been keeping score.

“You know, I’ve realised that you’re always the sober guy, Fukube. Why’s that?” Ryou skips the teasing this time and instead chooses to tread on the more fragile aspects. Sometimes she can be as perceptive as Houtarou. The main difference is that Houtarou doesn’t think much of his obvious talent. Ryou, on the other hand, thinks too highly of herself. Satoshi stands in between these two types of people, wondering how he wound up in such an excruciating position.

“I just prefer not to drink,” he says, finishing the first stack of papers and diving into the second.

“Bad experience?” Ryou asks, and when he doesn’t reply, “Bad experience,” she decides. The woman sighs to herself, unamused when Satoshi still doesn’t spare her a comeback.

“You never pay any attention to me!” she exclaims.

“That’s not true,” Satoshi lies.

Ryou laughs, satisfied. “Whatever. Then you’ll hence forth be known as the DSP!”

It honestly sounds more appealing and professional than his current position. Satoshi doesn’t complain as he checks his calendar, counting down the days till he can fly off somewhere and leave everything here behind for a bit.     

* * *

 

Mayaka’s handphone has been switched off for the fourth day in a row. The same goes for her house phone. She’s only just started out with _Queen Can’t Sleep’s_ serialization so it doesn’t make sense for her to already be flooded with work. Satoshi spins a pen in his hand and picks up the phone at his desk. As he dials Houtarou’s number, he checks the clock on the office wall. It’s about nine o’ clock. He should be out of bed now.

“– Houtarou?”  
  
A grumble is his only answer. Looks like Satoshi had been wrong, but he begins talking anyway. He tells Houtarou about Mayaka’s sudden disappearance, asking him to go to Chitanda about the matter. “I’m not her personal assistant,” he replies after a yawn.

“You’re her fiancé.” Satoshi shrugs.

“’Not the same thing.”

“Houtarou, please?” Satoshi knows he can’t refuse him when he begs.

“… Alright. But I don’t think Eru will know the answer.”

“Why not?”

“If she’s switched off her phone, then isn’t it likely that she hasn’t been calling anyone, including Eru?” Houtarou answers before rising into a yawn.

“But how can Mayaka do that to herself? Stop talking to anyone for days just to finish her work? I’m worried that she’s overworking herself.”

“Isn’t the reason partially because of you?” Houtarou replies in that understanding, perceptive tone that Satoshi used to be so envious of. He’s grown to accept it, whether due to age or due to too many wrong deductions, too many mistakes made to ever believe he can be anything like Houtarou. He’d raised a white flag a long time ago. It looks almost disgusting against the backdrop of his shocking pink life. Satoshi tries not to think too much about it. 

“… What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, Satoshi. We’re not teenagers anymore,” Houtarou says, sounding more awake now.

Satoshi isn’t pretending for once. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Houtarou grunts, sounding somewhat surprised. “You really don’t?”

“I don’t!” Satoshi covers his mouth when a colleague one desk over motions for him to quieten down. At the other side of the office, Ryou’s standing and staring at him with her arms crossed. Satoshi ducks his head in a general apology while Houtarou rolls off the bed on the other end of the line.  

“Ibara’s always been a determined person. Scarily determined. When she sets her mind on something, I doubt anything can steer her away from it. It’s tiring watching her,” Houtaru mumbles. “Haven’t you noticed that since graduating from university, she’s become more driven?”

“Kind of. I thought it was because being a mangaka really puts one through a lot of strain. All those deadlines to meet and working on such tight schedules. Mayaka’s something else.”

“Exactly. The Ibara we knew in high school probably would crack under all the pressure. The Ibara now though, is handling it pretty well,” Houtarou explains, “and it’s because she’s decided on something. You know how she gets when she decides on something. Ibara won’t give in easily.”

“The question is what, and why you think it’s got something to do with me.” Satoshi scribbles points on a post-it pad, feeling like a member of the Classics Club again.

“That’s something you should ask Ibara yourself,” Houtarou says.  

“What?” Satoshi leans back in his chair, struck with disbelief and disappointment. After entertaining him up to this point, Houtarou’s directing him back to Mayaka and back to square one. Did he pick up this hat trick from working in business?

“Really?”

“– Maybe you should visit her to make sure she’s okay. Doesn’t Ibara live near your office?”

“She does.”

“Then go for it. Anyway, I have to go now. Eru still has a list of things she hasn’t prepared for the wedding.” Houtarou gripes at the potential workload waiting for him, but he hangs up soon after with minimal dilly-dallying, like a lion content and declawed.

…

So Satoshi does as Houtarou suggests. He knows where Mayaka’s apartment is because he’s spent a few occasions there. Her birthday, New Years, Christmas – only because their families are in Kamiyama and there aren’t much other people that provide good quality company, even in the metropolis of Tokyo. They’re country kids at heart.

Satoshi has never let himself stay at her place past nine though. It’s too dangerous. But today, work ends later than usual. Ryou asks if he wants to go off together but he declines, telling her that he has to check up on a friend. She gives him a striking look and a smug smile in the elevator down to the ground floor of the office.

“Girlfriend?”

“Nope!”

“Girlfriend-who’s-not-your-girlfriend?”

Satoshi is too tired to retaliate. Ryou slaps her hand against the back of his head as she leaves.

…

It’s already just past ten when he reaches the bottom of the block of flats, bubble-print tie draped over one arm because it’s warm out, even for a summer night. Satoshi stares up at the tall building, counting sixteen storeys. This Japanese apartment complex houses five units per floor, bringing it to a total of 80 units. The floor space in the average 1K apartment unit is on average 20 by 20 meters in total. Mayaka lives in a 2DK apartment, which is about 45 by 45 meters. Its cost in the market usually flutters between 50,000 to 60,000 yen.

After doing all that calculation, his wits collected, he takes a deep breath and steps forward.      

“It’ll be done in a few minutes, Yamamoto-san!” Mayaka says as she opens the front door, her gaze directed at something in her house. She’s startled when she turns to see that it’s just Satoshi at her door.

“S-sorry. I thought you were my editor,” she explains, “but wait – why are you here, Fuku-chan?”

“I was worried about you,” he says, and Mayaka pricks her shoulders in defence at those words. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?”

“I disconnected my phone and shut off my handphone to prevent any distractions. I had a lot more work to finish than usual since they gave me an extra 10 pages in next month’s magazine. Anyway, next time you should just let yourself in. I hide my spare keys under the flower pot.”

Satoshi laughs, hesitating. Always hesitating. “You shouldn’t go around telling guys where you keep the keys to your apartment.”

“I don’t.” Mayaka says with restraint, in a way that demands his attention. He notices the dark circles under her eyes and how her hair is slightly longer now, touching her shoulders.

Mayaka lowers her eyes and walks back into her house. Satoshi removes his shoes and follows her, surprised to be greeted by two other girls bending over their desks, markers and pens and the smell of ink and eraser dust in the air. One of the girls has a cute round face framed by her bob, the other wears spectacles and appears incredibly tired. It looks like a hurricane tore through Mayaka’s apartment, leaving panic and papers askew throughout the living room.

“Who is this? Your boyfriend?” the one in spectacles asks.

“No,” Mayaka immediately says as she collapses back into her own seat. “Just a friend.” But the way she says it makes it feel like it has the opposite meaning. Or maybe she’s just tired.

* * *

 

花

 

“Eru-chan?” Mayaka holds the receiver close to her ear with both her hands.

“Maya-chan! It’s nice hearing from you!”

“Help.”

Eru drops everything she’s doing – in a polite, neat way, of course, alphabetizing them before she packs a tiny suitcase – and jumps on a plane headed to Tokyo without another word. Houtarou only finds out that she’s in Tokyo that night when she calls home from Mayaka’s apartment. When she arrives, she arrives like one would expect a fairy godmother: out of the blue, with the ability to make you trust in her capabilities. Her eyes are alert and her mouth is already open to ask: “What’s wrong?” as soon as Mayaka unlocks her door. She throws herself into her friend’s arms, and like she always has, Eru is there to hug her shoulders.

…

Eru takes it upon herself to prepare dinner. She instructs Mayaka to sit down and rest, twisting off her wedding ring and parking it on the countertop before diverting all her attention to the assembly of food she’s laid out. The ring glints when the kitchen ceiling’s light hits it at certain angles, and Mayaka keeps on checking on it, afraid that it might drop through a crack or up and disappear if left alone for too long. Eru doesn’t even look over her shoulder. It’s odd how such a small thing, bought by Houtarou no less, could mean so much to her and Eru, and in such different ways.

“I did a rash thing last week,” Mayaka says as Eru carries the pot off the stove and onto the dining table. The soup smells incredible. She hasn’t eaten Eru’s udon for a long time. The warmth of a home-cooked meal makes her infinitely better. As her friend moves to undo her apron and hang it over the back of the chair, Mayaka wipes the chopsticks, passing them over to her. Eru hums as she begins fishing in the soup for the udon and its other components.

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think it – ”

“I… with Fuku-chan...” Mayaka can’t even phrase it in verbal words, but it only takes Eru a second to understand.

“Oh! I see. You slept with Satoshi-san?”

“Eru-chan! D-don’t say it like that!”

The woman gives her a quizzical look. It opens into a soft smile when Mayaka stares down at her knees and clenched hands. “This isn’t the first time, is it? I remember you telling me something happened about – two years ago, correct?”

Mayaka feels her face flush. She’s getting too old to get bothered about things like these. Taking the ladle from Eru, she refills her own bowl and concentrates on slurping up the noodles.

“I wouldn’t call it rash, Maya-chan. Don’t be hard on yourself,” Eru tells her, her voice soothing and calming in the way only she knows how to be. She blows on a slice of fish before chewing on in small, subtle movements of her jaw. “It is quite unexpected, though. What made you able to do that?”

Mayaka wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Houtarou, that idiot.”

Eru blinks in mild surprise. Mayaka goes on to explain. “He told me to quit chasing Fuku-chan and stop him instead and – and I listened to him!” Mayaka lets the fact sink in. “I listened to Houtarou Oreki!” she cries out in severe shock, the stark reality of it hitting her only now. “I can’t believe I did that! How tired was I? I must have not been thinking straight,” she goes on to say. She snatches a knife off the tabletop and brandishes it out for Eru, bowing her head. “Please, make it quick and painless.”

“Maya-chan.”

She looks up when her name is said, and Eru pats her cheek with one hand.

“Calm down.”

Mayaka lowers the knife and one short, defeated laugh escapes from her. She’s tired, that’s all. Eru sets a fresh bowl of udon and soup in front of her. Mayaka guzzles it down.

“Feel better?”

 “Yes – but then, no, when I think about what’s happened,” Mayaka says, sighing a little as she goes along. To stave herself off another outburst, she takes one long gulp from her bowl. “What do I do, Eru-chan?”

“Well, what do you want to do?”

“I want to stay with Fuku-chan,” she says, and it’s no longer embarrassing to talk this way because it’s a fact. “That has never changed.”

Eru smiles at her. “Then do just that!”

“Eru-chan, you’re being too optimistic.”

“Am I?”

“Things don’t work out that way,” Mayaka says by way of explanation.

“That’s what a lot of people like to tell me,” Eru admits, “but how will you know unless you try?”

“You’re also very stubborn,” Mayaka says as she cleans up.

“Houtarou-san says that’s one of my most exhausting traits!” the woman announces, as though she’s proud of it. She hums to herself as she washes the crockery. “But, Maya-chan, you didn’t say I was wrong,” she points out after she turns the tap off.

“I didn’t,” Mayaka repeats.

“Mm-hmm!” Eru nods.

They spend the rest of the night watching horror movies and eating ice cream straight from the tub. It’s Eru’s first time doing such a thing. Mayaka guides her along.

…

After spending one week in America, Satoshi returns, shining in his element. Though she should have spent the week collecting her thoughts about what relationship she’s sharing with him now, she ends up spending the week missing him instead. He visits her just when she’s having a bad day.

“Kasabe’s latest oneshot beat everyone else, including you, Ibara,” Yamamoto informs her over the phone. “You know we don’t publish those stories often, but they still make an impact whenever they do get squeezed into the magazine’s lineups. They’re excellent too. So I want QCS to be on par with that, alright? I know you’re perfectly capable of that! I helped you find Ao-san the last time. Do you think you need one more assistant?”

“No, no, Ao-chan has been doing a great job. I’ll try to do better,” is the only thing Mayaka can say, hanging her head.

She still puts on a smile when Satoshi brings souvenirs over to her place because Satoshi hardly ever has a chance to go travel-writing even though he is the magazine’s official travel writer. They don’t publish travel articles as often as they’d promised him when he first accepted their job offer. Satoshi takes everything in stride, so he at least deserves her to smile and listen to him tell stories as she drafts out _Queen Can’t Sleep_ ’s next chapter.

“I’ve already asked the editor-in-chief when he’ll let me do another travel article, but he’s being really picky about it,” Satoshi laughs. “I even said I’d pay for all the expenses. I’ve been saving up, you know?”

Oh right, Mayaka knows that he’s usually a huge splurge for the weirdest things (which consist of, but are not limited to: subscription to a rival magazine, an elephant-shaped lamp and a compact backscratcher), but lately he’s been spending less.

“But he still says he needs me in the office.” Satoshi frowns.

“Fuku-chan, you’re only twenty-five and you’ve already travelled to Europe and America. That’s a lot compared to everyone else. I haven’t gone out of Japan even once,” she reminds him.

Satoshi nods and leans against her sofa, folding his arms. “Then maybe we should go somewhere together someday.”

The tip of her pen bears down against the paper, hard and static. “Don’t say things like that.” In the place of anger, she can only hear regret in her voice. “Don’t say things you aren’t going to go through with, Fuku-chan.”

“Stop that.”

Satoshi’s voice sounds strange, causing Mayaka to raise her head. She’s struck dumb when she meets his gaze. Satoshi is angry. At her. This has never happened before. This isn’t supposed to happen. She’s the one who is always angry, he’s the one who is always apologetic. That’s the inescapable cycle of their relationship.

But Satoshi remains resolutely angry.

“Stop twisting my words into a weapon to hurt us. It’s not fun, Mayaka. Whatever I say has never been on purpose to hurt you. You know that. So stop making it sound that way. It’ll only make us even more miserable.”

Mayaka’s pen slips, ruining the page. She bites her lip and feels something well up inside her.

“I love you.” Her voice verges on its border. It’s unromantic.

The next instant, Mayaka creases her brow, scowling at herself. She gathers up her things, dropping erasers and pencils and rulers this way and that in her wake as she moves into her room. Satoshi hooks his drawstring pouch at his wrist and shows himself out of the apartment.    

…

[Sorry about yesterday (シ_ _)シ Are you okay? ヽ(°◇° )ノ]

[Don’t apologise, idiot. It was my fault. I’m sorry. TTYL, I have to finish my manuscript.]  
  
[good luck with it! ヾ(＠゜▽゜＠）ノ]

* * *

 

True to their words, Houtarou and Eru take some time off managing the Chitanda enterprise to visit Tokyo. It’s been a few months since their wedding, but they claim that there hasn’t been a very big difference in their lifestyle. Mayaka thinks they still look more like a young couple than a married one. Satoshi insists that they should go to an amusement park together – as teenagers, they never had the opportunity since such things were absent from a sleepy town like Kamiyama.

After their first ride on the rollercoaster, Houtarou shakes his head when Eru suggests going for a second round. For once, Mayaka finds herself agreeing with him.

“But I want to go again too!” Satoshi says. “Why don’t we just go together, Eru-san?”

“Let’s!” the woman replies, drunk with excitement, her eyes glowing. “Will you two be alright sitting here?” Eru attends to them first just to make sure, swaying on the balls of her feet. Houtarou and Mayaka nod, too disoriented to give a verbal response. With that done, Satoshi and Eru scramble back to the end of the winding line with so much unbridled enthusiasm, it’s hard to believe they’re twenty-four.

“Eru-chan looks like she’s really enjoying herself.”

“Probably because it’s only her second time at a place like this.”

Mayaka sits up on the bench.

“Really?”

“As far as I know,” Houtarou says, uncapping his water bottle  for a drink.

“Wow. What kind of boyfriend were you?” To only take his girlfriend to an amusement park once in seven years of dating? Houtarou’s even more of a dork than Mayaka expects.

“The kind that didn’t want to travel to out of the way places.” 

“I still don’t know why Eru-chan agreed to marry you. You suck at being romantic.”

“You aren’t exactly the biggest romantic, Fuyamato-chan.”

The noise Mayaka makes is high-pitched. “W-W-Why’d you call me that?”  
  
“It’s your nom de plume, isn’t it? Fuyamato Kasabe, the infamous shoujo author who never ends her stories on a happy no– ” he’s cut off when she wrings the collar of his shirt.

“How did you find out?”

“I just noticed how Fuyamato-chan’s works are always published after you take breaks from writing QCS. The writing styles between yours and hers are distinct, but you use the same type of motion lines. The fact that Fuyamato Kasabe is a combination of ‘Mayaka Ibara’ and ‘Satoshi Fukube’ was a hint too. And given what’s been going on between you and Satoshi, I came to the conclusion that Fuyamato-chan was either him or you. Of course, Satoshi doesn’t have the ability to write as well as you do.” Houtarou taps her wrists, asking to be released. Mayaka does so unwillingly.

Massaging his neck, Houtarou continues, almost cautiously. “The theory I came up with is this: You wanted Satoshi to figure it out. But he hasn’t.” He tugs at his bangs when Mayaka doesn’t respond. “The thing with Satoshi is that you need to give him all the pieces in the puzzle if you want him to solve something. You didn’t.” 

She holds her bag up against her face. “I hate you, Houtarou.”

“I really like Fuyamato-chan’s works though. You can be really dark when you put your mind to it, Ibara. Is it because of Satoshi?”

“You don’t need to know.” But Houtarou hits the nail on the head as usual.

The man doesn’t reply. He stretches out into a yawn before continuing, “I don’t think Satoshi is the only one at fault for the way things are now.”

“I know that.” Mayaka pulls on the edge of her skirt.

“And venting about someone by publishing depressing shoujo stories, while novel, is pretty much useless if he doesn’t know about it.”

Mayaka doesn’t feel like replying to that.

“You’re letting him get away with this,” Houtarou concludes.

“Then what do you want me to do?” Mayaka turns to face him, slamming a fist on her lap in frustration. “What do you want me to do?” she repeats, her voice drowned out by the screams of people riding the rollercoaster above them. “I’ve tried getting over him and it never works. For all the things he’s done to me, it’s still the same! I bury myself in work and I manage to get him off my mind, but every time I come back to the real world, I’m at the same spot again. It’s my fault – it’s my fault for not being able to leave him – I know it, okay, Houtarou? You don’t need to rub it in,” her voice shakes and shivers and she rubs the heel of her hand furiously against her eyes before tears can start to form. Then, she feels someone pat her head and refuses to look up.

“Every time we’re close to doing something right, one of us slips up. I don’t know why. It always happens that way and we just let it go like that. What’s wrong with us?”

“Mayaka.”

Houtarou usually utilizes her first name to great effect: to pick on her or spite her or just to make her choke on her food. It’s strange that now she feels comfort above all else.

“… Satoshi has the bad habit of running away. You have the worse habit of chasing him instead of stopping him,” Houtarou says quietly. “Both of you should stay put for once. The amount of energy you two expend is tiring to look at.”

“You make it sound easy,” Mayaka says, subdued by the accuracy of his words. To think that the day she takes relationship advice from Houtarou Oreki has finally come. She removes the warm hand from her head and places it on Houtarou’s own. “Doing something for so many years, it’s hard to suddenly change direction.”

“I know that. I’ve been there,” Houtarou hums, “but you still have time. Take your time. Even if you can only do it months or even a year from now. Stop Satoshi from running away.” And he looks different when he says this. 

“Since when did you have a soul?” Mayaka says finally. She takes a deep breath, the smell of candy floss and popcorn faint in the air of the park’s grounds. “… And since when were you this chatty, slug?”

The corner of Houtarou’s mouth lifts, if only a little. “I don’t do anything I don’t have to do,” he reminds her. Lifting his hand off his head and stretching one last time, he folds himself against the bench, close to dozing off. Mayaka doesn’t disturb him for once. She unzips her bag to retrieve her sketchbook and works on completing a storyboard for her next chapter. The two of them sit like that until Eru and Satoshi return giddy with laughter, bearing ice cream cones to make up for the long wait.

* * *

 

志

 

Satoshi’s handphone rings just as he’s preparing to turn in for the night.

“Hi, Houtarou. What’s the occasion?”

“Eru wanted me to call you,” he admits his wife’s ownership over him with indifference, “she wants to know what’s happening between you and Ibara. From your perspective.”

In the background, Satoshi hears a soft, clipped, “Houtarou-san, not so bluntly”. The once-in-a-lifetime scene of The Eru Chitanda showing exasperation at Houtarou, of all people, unfolds before his very eyes. Satoshi counts himself a lucky spectator.

“Satoshi?” Houtarou asks when he doesn’t reply.

“Oh, um – I don’t know how to answer that, Houtarou.”

“Don’t know or don’t want to?”

“It’s the same thing to me.” Satoshi puts a smile in his voice but not on his face.

“Satoshi,” Houtarou says again, but this is more severe, more concerned.   

“Houtarou,” he deflects back, voice quiet and blank. “I think – I think I need to work this out for myself. Tell Eru-san that I’m grateful for her concern, but I prefer to deal with this at my own pace.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s curious, not concerned,” Houtarou corrects him, lowering his voice into a whisper as he does. Satoshi grins in the face of everything standing against him. Trust Houtarou to be the only one who can make him feel this way. But he has to stop relying on Houtarou.

“You’ll be okay without me?”

“Aw, you really do care. Don’t talk about such things around your wife, Houtarou. She might get jealous.”

“… You’ll be okay,” Houtarou decides, a gruff smile on the edge of his voice.

* * *

 

花

 

Satoshi clenches the bedsheet under one hand, creasing it. “Mayaka, I can’t answer you because I’m not ready,” he says and stops because he catches the expression on her face. “I’m sorry.” He looks mortified. Mayaka finds it odd that he chooses now of all times to look guilty. He’s been giving her the same answer for the last ten years, the only difference is that this time he’s telling her in concrete words.

“You’re not forgiven,” she says but doesn’t sound as venomous as she should. If anything, she’s happy that he’s being honest to both himself and her. She leans the side of her head on the top of her knees. “You’re lucky I like honest people, Fuku-chan,” she adds, hugging her legs and blanket close. She tosses and turns over the idea that she’s the unlucky one, but it isn’t true at all, looking at the person sitting at the edge of the bed and the fact that she has a bowl of soggy ramen waiting for her outside.     

“ – Anyway, don’t you have work to get to?”

“Yes,” Satoshi groans at the thought. “The first train starts at 5.45. Work starts at 8.30. It’ll take me over an hour to get back home. I won’t make it in time if I go home. Looks like I’m going to work in yesterday’s clothes.”

“You can air them outside for a bit. I’m sure your colleagues won’t notice,” Mayaka says. She spots at his tie snaked on the floor, pink and bright. “Then again, maybe not,” she laughs once. Satoshi plucks the tie off the floor and observes its colour before chuckling too, sounding ambiguous. At least he’s a bit less guarded now. Laughing at five in the morning with Satoshi Fukube has never felt so out of place and so natural.

…

They fall into an agreement of sorts after that. It starts with upfront invitations. “You can stay,” she tells him when he visits and the assistants have left for the night. And then it turns into silent accommodation, Satoshi comes over when work ends after eleven and the bed in his dormitory is too far away. She lets him sleep on the sofa and then lets him sleep in her bed. He’s quiet when he unbuttons her shirt and loud when she leaves bite marks on his shoulder.

No matter what happens, Satoshi still leaves before she wakes up the next day, as if out of politeness, as if to cause minimal difficulty on both their ends. By nature, he isn’t someone who finds it easy to wake up in the morning. The fact that he goes to such extents to avoid any misunderstanding makes Mayaka’s sketch lines messy and her inking clumsy. Midori helps her redo any minor mistakes she makes, quiet and patient with her chin poised.   

Then, one morning, Mayaka wakes up to find Satoshi’s nose inches from hers. He’s sleeping soundly. He’s still beside her. She looks at him, something warm wedging itself in the middle of her chest, and turns her head so that her face is smothered in her pillow. But the feeling doesn’t go away. Wavering, she touches his cheek and wraps her arms around him the next moment and her eyes become wet when she presses her forehead against the empty space between his neck and shoulder. This is too much for her. Satoshi stirs after a moment, noticing through hazy eyes, and holds her close. His hand is still half-asleep, fumbling at her spine. She thinks about how things might have turned out differently if he’d done this that morning, two years ago in Kamiyama.

But this is okay too. Months ago, Satoshi would have hesitated to allow himself such a simple gesture. Mayaka allows herself to feel comforted for the first time in a long while.  


	3. Part 3

_(part 3 of 3)_

志

Satoshi never tells Mayaka that he likes her on Valentine’s Day.

If there’s one thing he will never be able to forgive himself for, it’s breaking Mayaka’s chocolate. He had to do it. There had been no other way out, at least, no way he could see just then. It’s just another reason why he envies Houtarou and his emotions get the better of him when he watches how Houtarou treats his abilities.

If Houtarou were in his place, he would have been able to come up with a better solution easily.

When Satoshi snaps the chocolate against his knee, the moment it splits into two and he hears the deafening tear against the plastic, he knows that he will never be able to tell Mayaka that he likes her.  

“I’m sorry,” he says into his phone, sniffing in the cold snowfall.  
  
“… Alright.”

Mayaka doesn’t say anything after that, doesn’t probe him for a reply to her overwhelming feelings, and Satoshi doesn’t know whether to think of it as good or bad. The tiredness in her voice stings, like she’s telling him ‘I give up’, ‘You win’, ‘I’m exhausted by this’. It’s unlike the Mayaka he knows, fierce and loud and sure of herself. The determination he always associates with her is absent. The air only grows colder when he realises that it’s his fault.

He can’t throw her chocolate away now even though the sight of it makes him feel sick. Throwing it away is probably the only thing that can make him feel worse. It’s heavy in his drawstring bag, and as he walks home, he slowly unwraps it and looks at the ugly cracks scouring the chocolate. Satoshi shivers as he breaks it again. He swallows it piece by piece, the dark chocolate bitter and hard, until everything is gone.  

* * *

  
  
After getting out of the shower in the worker’s dorm, Satoshi returns to his room intending to catch up on the issues of _Margaret_ he hasn’t been able to read because of work piling up the last few weeks. He’s fallen into the routine of purchasing the bi-weekly magazine since Mayaka first started her serialization. Now, its issues are taking up a third of his shelf space. He doesn’t really mind. Variety never hurt anyone.

Sitting cross-legged on his bed, he skims through the thicker of the two unread magazines. There’s a Fuyamato Kasabe oneshot in this one. He finds Kasabe’s storytelling a little out there, but also very interesting. He wonders how she’s going to end this one and flips through the first few pages to read the set-up. It appears innocuous at first, a typical high school girl in love in with a boy that’s out of her league, and it only makes him anxious to know when Kasabe’s going to throw the twist in. She’s just trying to mislead her readers with this. He thinks: secretly blood-related, car accident, or one of them is a ghost, but realises that Kasabe probably wouldn’t resort to such deux ex machinas.

Of course the male love interest takes notice of her after a chance meeting. The heroine is likeable. Not too cute but not too plain as well. She cracks jokes on every other page and is the class clown, apparently. Satoshi likes that the class clown character is female, it’s something new. The male love interest and her spend a lot of time together after school, and their scenes are romantic. When she finally confesses her love to him on the last few pages –

 _‘That’s… another one of your jokes, right?’_     

* * *

 

花

Mayaka stops talking to Satoshi for a couple of months after high school graduation. It’s the longest they’ve ever gone without talking. The previous record had been only a week, a pathetic record that Mayaka thinks fondly of. Satoshi’d gone on holiday and couldn’t find a good internet connection in China. He’d resorted to mailing postcards to her and Houtarou and Chi-chan, the Great Wall painted on the back of his long stories.

Within the first week of moving into her dorm, Mayaka receives letters from home in the mail. She’d expected only two: one from her parents, the other from Chi-chan. So when she finds out that there are three, she arches an eyebrow. Her parents had helped her forward the third letter from their home. It’s from Satoshi.

‘How are you?’ the letter begins. It’s Satoshi, alright. Down to the happy smiley face he’d scribbled on the margins of the journal paper. He proceeds to talk about Tsukuba university, comparing it to Nagoya university from the campus size to the type of food outlets available and the student population, going off in that undirected way of his. And finally ends the letter with a statement that seems like a sudden afterthought: ‘I’m sorry for what I did. Can we still be friends?’

And though Satoshi can be outrageous, at least he’d thought to put the question at the end. If Mayaka had seen it first, she probably would’ve been too frustrated to read through the rest. He knows her well enough. She places the letter on her desk lightly, even as a part of her wants to slam it down. What good would that do, though?

Of course, she doesn’t start on a reply to him straightaway. She doesn’t know what to write. How do you phrase an answer to a question like that, and to begin with, what is her answer?   

“Ooo, what’s this?” Suddenly, a girl is standing behind her, peering down curiously at the letter. Mayaka jumps, pinning it under her left arm.  
  
“Tomi-chan, hi.”

…

Her roommate, an Engineering student named Tomitsu, has a boyfriend attending the same university as Satoshi.

“Yo-kun? Yo-kun’s doing Life Sciences over there,” she says, inserting a strawberry clip in her short, blonde hair. “Do you think he’ll know this letter-person?”

Mayaka shakes her head. “He’s studying Literature.”

“Hey, that’s like you, Ibara-chan! Why didn’t both of you just go to the same university together? It could have saved you from all of this ‘what should I write in reply’ dilemma, you know.”

Mayaka glances at the scenery outside the window of their room, crossing her legs. The field outside their dorm is crowded with students going about their different activities. Satoshi would enjoy himself here. “I was accepted by Nagoya, so I chose it over Tsukuba.”

“Did he apply to Nagoya too?”

“… I don’t know.”   

Tomitsu crosses her arms behind her back. “Well, come on, let’s go out for lunch, yeah? Maybe you’ll know what to write when we get back!”

…

“Have you written back to letter-person yet?” Tomitsu asks one day after their classes. She seems more eager to reply to Satoshi than Mayaka.

“Ibara-chan, if I’m butting myself too much into your business, you have to tell me. My other friends say I lack _‘tact’_ –” she makes quotation marks with her fingers “ – but I just think you should avoid putting it off, else’ it’ll be harder for you, you know. Just my two cents!” Tomitsu then directs her attention to her laptop, plugging in her earphones.

Mayaka throws a pillow over herself. “You’re right,” she admits into the pillow grudgingly. She pulls out the chair of her study desk, seats herself and tidies up the table. She pushes her latest manuscript aside – it’ll be ready for submission to _Margaret_ soon, and hopefully they’ll want to publish it this time. Ripping a piece of paper from her notebook, she readies her ballpoint. 

…

She sends her reply out only one month later. It’s a postcard that is blank save for one sentence.

‘How’s university?’

* * *

 

志

“Reminiscing about your college heartbreak, DSP?”

Satoshi slips the postcard back into his drawer. “Ryou-san. I know you’re the assistant editor-in-chief, but don’t you ever have work to do at your own desk?” he includes a humouring laugh at the end of the question.

“Part of my job is to make sure everyone in the office is doing theirs!” the woman replies with a grin as she adjusts her dress suit, “and to care for the welfare of my subordinates.” She taps against a finger against her heavily made-up cheek, scrutinizing his workspace.

“Well, I’m fine!” Satoshi beams at her. “In fact, I think I’ll finish looking through these ahead of time.”

“Yeah, I can tell. You’re more energetic now, Fukube. That’s good to see.”

Oh, she’s acting like a real boss now. “Um, it’s mostly because of your help. I haven’t thanked you for talking to me last week.”

“Of course it is. But this is the first time I’m seeing you work so efficiently. The last was when you first joined the department. I remember you being so keen to learn and everything,” Ryou says. Satoshi thinks back to that period almost three years ago now. He’d gotten an internship with the company through Tsukuba university, and had the opportunity to sign on as a permanent member of the staff after it. He’d been thrilled to write for the magazine then – or rather, thrilled at what he thought he was going to be doing for an editorial job.

“In the beginning, you were so passionate. But before I knew it, you were drawing yourself back.”

“I didn’t like involving myself into one thing for too long,” Satoshi says.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s just– ” Satoshi remembers a bridge, falling snow, Houtarou’s coat rippling in the gale, a broken heart in his hands and an empty smile on his face.

Ryou hits the top of his head with a roll of paper, yanking him back to the present. “If that’s the case, you would have quit long ago. You’re still here, Fukube. So stop contradicting yourself and put more heart into it. And I don’t just mean work.”   

Satoshi blinks at her words, and then nods agreeably. “I’ve been trying to change my way of doing things, Ryou-san.”

“Yep. Must be because of your girlfriend, huh? You don’t need to say anything. I understand. I changed for the better because of my boyfriend too.”  

A beat.

“You have a boyfriend?”

“Since high school.” Ryou tosses her hair over her shoulder dramatically. “Jealous?”

“… Not really…” Just puzzled about what kind of person he is.

花

Mayaka is halfway through a colour spread for _Queen Can’t Sleep_ when Satoshi calls her handphone. He asks about what she wants to eat for dinner tonight. “Anything will do,” she replies before reminding him that he has to go to work early tomorrow, so he shouldn’t come by too late or he won’t have enough rest. When she sets her phone back down on the table, she feels someone looking at her. Mayaka pans her gaze to her left, where Akai is sitting.

“Is there something wrong, Akai-chan?”

“Nope. I was just wondering:  when are you planning to marry Fukube?” Akai asks. The way she poses her question makes it sound like she’s inquiring about the weather. Mayaka’s voice catches in her throat, whether due to frustration or confusion, she can’t be sure.  

“Akai-san!” Ao hurtles into panic. Her pigtails quiver when she gestures wildly. “Remember, Fukube-san said not to talk about that!”  

Mayaka’s marker stops. Neru’s hair is abandoned, blotted half red and half orange. “Fuku-chan talked to you about us?”

Ao bites her lip, looking incredibly distressed. Midori clears her throat and takes everything upon herself as she slides a pen against a ruler on the table. She’s gotten so good at doing backgrounds that she can multitask now. “Fukube-san just told us not to tease you. I think he was worried that we would be bothering you or causing your stress if we did that,” she clarifies. “We’re sorry for invading your personal affairs, Ibara-san.” She turns over to Akai, polite but firm.

“’m sorry,” Akai huffs, she brings her gaze back to the page she’s working on.

“It’s alright,” Mayaka tells them. She lowers her hands. Satoshi worries about things like that?

“It was believable if you denied it before, Ibara-san,” Akai suddenly speaks up, much to Ao’s upset and Midori’s surprise, “but lately we’ve been seeing him here at least once a week. You can’t blame us for jumping to conclusions.”

Has he been spending so much time here? Mayaka hadn’t noticed. Either Akai and the rest were exaggerating, or… she’s gotten used to it. She doesn’t want to get comfortable with what she has now, but, Akai is right. Something is different now.

“If you ever do get married, I would like to be one of the bridesmaids,” Midori says, breaking the initial silence. Her voice is joking, and it even manages to coax a smile out of Ao.

“I want to be in charge of catering,” Akai volunteers.

“I, I want to wear a nice dress!”

…

In the middle of dinner, her chopsticks fall out of her hand and clatter on the table. Mayaka sticks her tongue out as she flexes her right fingers. She must have gone too long drawing without giving her hand a break.

“Is your hand okay?” Satoshi asks as he puts his own utensils down.

“It cramps up a little sometimes,” she says, kneading it with her left hand.

Satoshi takes her hand. “Like this.” He interlocks his fingers with hers, opening her hand. Using his thumbs, he massages her palm and Mayaka feels immediate relief.  

“Since when did you learn how to massage hands?”

“You’d be surprised at what videos they post online nowadays.” Satoshi laughs.

“So, what you’re saying is that you’ve just added another useless talent to your repertoire,” says Mayaka. She smiles despite herself. Satoshi’s movements are precise and careful and the ache in her drawing hand gradually goes away. Words lost to her, Mayaka can only look at the person sitting opposite her and then down between them. They stare intently at their hands, as if they’re holding everything they have left.

“… You know, I was thinking about going somewhere to write my next article. The editor-in-chief finally gave me some leeway and time off for it. I’ve saved up enough too.”

“Where? Italy? Russia? The Philippines?”

“Where do you want to go?” he asks.

Mayaka’s right hand tenses, but Satoshi is there to ease the pain out of it again, and Mayaka closes her eyes and her fingers at the same time, savouring the exact moment something shifts between them. “You’re the worst. You’re the worst. You’re the worst,” she mumbles and sucks in another breath to keep her tears at bay.

His hands clench around hers.

“Mayaka,” he says, and doesn’t look away, and she loves him. “ – I love you.”

“You’re still the worst, Satoshi.”

Mayaka only says that because Satoshi sounds much more romantic than she ever will be. He tugs her closer and into a kiss, making it even more romantic and making her curse into his mouth.  

* * *

 

志

“I’ve been meaning to tell you that that’s a cute tie,” Ryou comments as she passes by his desk. “I thought that the goose tie was the best one you had, but you’ve proven me wrong.” She crosses her arms and perches them on top of a stack of files, her long hair pinned to one side with a plain black barrette.

Satoshi straightens his back proudly, smoothing the creases out of his tie, printed with cartoony smoking pipes and monocles. He’d bought online only a couple of weeks ago. “Yup! This was a real find.”   

“Anyway, you free for dinner tonight?”

“With the rest of the department?”

“Of course not!” Ryou seems to find the suggestion comical. “Do you see anyone else around? Obviously, I meant with me!”

Satoshi laughs uneasily. “Thanks for the invitation, but not tonight. I’m already taken.” He had promised Mayaka he would help her tone some of her pages after work since Ao’s been busy with exams in school.

“By your-girlfriend-who’s-not-your-girlfriend?”

He pushes back from his desk and copies her, folding his own arms. “Ryou-san,” he says with a shake of his head. “There’s nothing happening between me and anyone.” And, maybe  it’s because they’re the last ones in the office, he says, “Nothing should be allowed to happen.”

“What’s with that look on your face? Come off it!” the woman laughs. Then, she stops too abruptly. Her tone changes. “You act like you’re the one suffering. That really makes me want to punch your teeth in, you know?” Ryou says. “’Not sure how she can stand you. You’ve been sulking ever since you started working here. I could see because it was obvious. Sulking and not doing a damn thing about it, which is what makes me the most pissed about. And you know you’re hurting her and you know how to stop it and yet you’re always just sitting there and telling me I’m wrong when in the end you still go back to her. Tell me what’s the problem with the equation here? You’re such a coward, Fukube. I forgot why I wanted to have dinner with you in the first place.”  

She keeps her smile even and walks off, leaving him alone for once.

This isn’t the first time someone is talking to him about this. It feels like the first time he’s actually listening, though.

* * *

 

“Hello? Satoshi-san?”

“Chi-san! It’s nice to hear from you! How’s university?”

“It’s excellent,” she says, amicable as per usual. Satoshi sometimes feels unnerved when he talks to Chitanda because she comes off as spotless. Like a clean dining table, all the cutlery and white dishes set in place, polished. She gives him a sort of feeling he’s never experienced when he’s around Houtarou and Mayaka, who are both flawed in obvious and unique ways. Chitanda’s weaknesses can’t be observed on the surface because of all the training she’s undergone in her family. Although Satoshi feels guilty, a part of him has always wanted to uncover Chitanda’s elusive flaws.

“So, why the sudden call?” he asks.  

“It’s about Maya-chan,” Chitanda says the name with deliberate caution, “but before we talk about that, if possible, why don’t we meet face-to-face?”

Ack. She’s trying to corner him.

“I’m stuck in campus all week.” Satoshi glances at the colourful calendar pinned on the wall of his room, packed to the brim with activities and post-it reminders.

“That won’t be a problem. We can meet for lunch at wherever will be convenient for you. My classes haven’t started yet, you see,” is the reply he gets, forceful yet sweet. To reject her now would require a tremendous, celestial level of tenacity.

Satoshi falls back on his mattress, crumpling the sheets. “Oops.” He has to make his bed again.

…

“Chi-san!” Satoshi waves her over to the small table he’s managed to save for them at the packed café.

Chitanda presents him with a wide grin as she bustles over, squeezing between tables and chairs, a handbag on her shoulder and a long skirt swishing at her ankles. The strangers sitting around them might be assuming that they’re on a date from the look of things. Satoshi thinks that that’s the funniest joke he’s made in a very long time.

After ordering their drinks: a hot chocolate and a cappuccino, Chitanda sets her hands in front of herself, forming a tent with her fingers. Satoshi places a hand on his knee to stop it from bouncing under the table.

“I’m sorry for asking to meet you on such short notice, you must be busy with your studies,” she begins, mincing around, enhancing the stark differences between her and Mayaka. Chitanda knows how to set the tone. Mayaka doesn’t even consider that. Satoshi thinks both ways of doing things have their pros and cons.

“Not at all. I’m sorry for making you travel all the way here.”

“It’s fine, I enjoyed my trip here.” Chitanda is still all smiles. Satoshi feels competitive all of a sudden.   

“Haha! So what was it that you wanted to talk to me about again?”

“Satoshi-san,” Chitanda says simply.

“Ah, right, Mayaka. Is everything fine with her?”

The waiter delivers their drinks and the girl sitting opposite him sips from her cappuccino before continuing. “She’s been doing well. She told me that a few boys have asked her out. She’s considering going out with some of them.”

Satoshi tries not to let anything show on his face.

“Oh, that’s…”

Chitanda blinks, waiting for him to finish his sentence. Satoshi doesn’t. He takes up his own mug, stalling.

“That’s – ?” she prompts.

“That’s good, Chi-san. She’ll find herself happier with someone else,” he exhales, it feels hard to say it aloud, like heaving a rock off his chest, and the smile falls from his face.

“… Is that what you really feel, Satoshi-san?”

Chitanda unpitches her hands and now lays them flat on the table, bearing her empty palms at him. Intimidatingly open.

“Chitanda,” Satoshi drops the formalities, “you know Mayaka is better off with anyone other than me. I have never been – will probably never be – suited for her.” Or anybody for the matter, but especially Mayaka. And he slides his gaze away from the girl. Though she’s not as sensitive as Houtarou, Satoshi doesn’t want Chitanda trying to read him.     

“If you’re concerned about hurting Maya-chan by reciprocating her feelings, you have already hurt her numerous times, whether you’re aware of it or not.”

It scares him how nice Chitanda can sound even when she’s saying something like this. It’s also a haunting reminder of their high school days together. Whenever Chitanda asked to speak to him alone in the corridors, it would be about two things and two things only: either Hyouka articles or Mayaka.  

“So, to use that obsolete factor to make a decision on the way you’ve been acting towards her in the past and now wouldn’t be right – I just believe there is a better way for you to go about things, for both you and Maya-chan’s happiness. We’re in university now, aren’t we? It’s time for new beginnings.”  
  
Satoshi wants to laugh. Regardless of whether he stays with Mayaka or away from her, he’ll end up hurting her. That’s what he’s learned. It’s despicable of him, but the way Chitanda is speaking right now really makes him want to laugh. Instead, the sound he makes is strangled, halfway between a hoarse cough and a chuckle.

“Chi-san, it doesn’t work that way,” he explains.

“Satoshi-san, you haven’t even tried anything, yet you’re already giving up.”

Ah. Satoshi has found Chitanda’s flaw.

She’s suffocating.

* * *

 

花

The first thing Mayaka does when she wakes up is to count the number of bags hanging from the hooks on the walls. In the process, she discovers that some of plastic hooks are lopsided. Satoshi must have had a hard time screwing them in by himself when he’d been a teenager.

Nineteen bags, excluding the army of drawstring pouches he’s hoarded. That’s the same number as the age they left Kamiyama to study in universities in the city. Now they’re twenty-three and even though it’s been only four years, Mayaka feels like a long time has passed. A lot has changed and a lot has stayed the same. Satoshi’s still not beside her.

She hears noise coming from downstairs as she slips into yesterday’s clothes. Glad that there’s no strong smell on them, she makes way into the bathroom. There, she cringes at her messy hair and then at her neck, only relieved when she remembers the concealer she’s packed in her handbag.  

In the kitchen, she hears someone whistling. “G’morning!” Satoshi greets her, giving no indication of what happened between them last night. She lets him go once again, even as she locks her jaw.   

“… ’Morning,” she murmurs back.

As she searches for her handbag, Satoshi cooks them breakfast. He’s wearing a different shirt from yesterday, this one with its collar popped. They’d left a trail of feigned chaos in their stumble through the house from yesterday night. A couple of empty beer cans on the floor, one of her shoes in the middle of the living room, the other placed neatly at the door, and how did her hairclip get all the way up there? She finally finds her handbag under a sofa cushion.  

They eat breakfast in a silence that she doesn’t know whether to describe as awkward or comfortable. At least she likes the way he scrambles their eggs. “Before we leave, can we clean up?” Satoshi asks all of a sudden, and of course Mayaka agrees.

She assumes that Satoshi had been referring to only the living room and possibly his bedroom, but before she notices, they’re changing the bedsheets for his sister and parents too. They take two corners each and work to peel off the old sheets and tuck the new ones on. They’re efficient with how they split the workload, and it reminds Mayaka of how they’d worked together on so many projects in middle school and high school. Working together has always been the most natural thing for both of them. It’s much easier compared to when they work against each other, and it’s when they’re the most truthful to each other. It’s sad that they can’t always be like this.

While he sweeps the floor, she dusts the furniture. The feather duster is something she can imagine the Fukube family owning. It’s rainbow-coloured and incredibly fluffy, but too short for her to use because she can’t reach the top of the shelf. Satoshi spots her standing on her toes and takes the duster from her to finish the job. Mayaka hunches forward, but it doesn’t stop Satoshi from leaning against her back, in a hauntingly similar fashion to something she doesn’t want to recall now.

“U-um,” she doesn’t know what else to say. Satoshi only notices what he’s done just then and quickly steps back. He unfastens the smile from his face, sheepish and handsome and still the only person she loves. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she says even though it’s not.

Mayaka is the first to put distance between them, walking away from him and occupying herself with sorting through the books scattered all over the shelves. She lingers over the books she knows are Satoshi’s. He’s lent all of them to her before. She’s read every single one and knows them inside out and knows why their owner likes them so much. She misses library duty all of a sudden, and all of the secrets she’d shared with Satoshi in the library. There weren’t actually any secrets being exchanged on most days. It only felt that way because they had to talk in hushed voices.

Then, she misses Houtarou’s laziness and Chi-chan’s curiosity and Satoshi’s colours.

 “Are we ready to go?”

Mayaka looks up. Her hand leaves the spine of a book.

“Yes.”

They step out into the Kamiyama sun, leaving everything behind them.

**end**

* * *

 

Mayaka passes the second last chapter of _Queen Can’t Sleep_ into Yamamoto’s hands.

He flips through the manuscript, his facial expression changing from pleased to confused over time, until he reaches the last page.

“Ibara – this is QCS, right? The characters are the same, but you’re writing it like Kasabe.”

“It is.”

“So, Neru doesn’t end up with anyone? Hayato loves someone else, and she doesn’t love Tobio, so this is what she’s planning to do? To just move on?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s… probably not what your readers are looking for,” Yamamoto says, scratching the back of his neck as he tries to explain it to her nicely. “I thought when we were discussing this, we were going to have her move on from Hayato and try starting a relationship with Tobio?”

“I was thinking, Yamamoto-san,” Mayaka cuts in, “that maybe for once, we shouldn’t end our stories with the heroine seizing her love.”

“That’s what you’ve been doing under Fuyamato Kasabe. This isn’t the same thing, Ibara, you’ve got expectations to fulfil.”

She really doesn’t want to cause problems for her editor. Honestly. But, “I have things I believe in, Yamamoto-san. This is the way I want to end the story. I think that it’s good to let the readers know that we won’t always end up with the person we like, and it’s not the end of the world. Neru-chan has other dreams she can pursue, things that have nothing to do with romance. She’ll grow up stronger, and maybe she’ll be happier and find someone else in the future. Just because she doesn’t end up with Hayato or Tobio now, doesn’t mean that she’ll be alone for the rest of her life. It doesn’t mean that she has nothing left to live for.”

Yamamoto gapes at her in exasperation, but he doesn’t immediately reject the idea, and she appreciates him for that. He rubs his fingers against his temples, which is what he usually does when he’s preparing to agree with her.

“Is this really the way you want your love story to end?”

 “Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can safely say that with this, I have satoshi-mayaka’d myself out. Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it? : 
> 
> -This was also AU because Mayaka becomes a shoujo manga author in this verse. I find it hard to believe she would be able to achieve her dream easily in the canon!verse. Comparatively, in this AU!verse where her heart is broken and she needs to direct her passion/anger/emotion onto something else, she is probably more capable/driven to adapt to the lifestyle of a manga author here. Also, because she never dates Satoshi, she spends all her time working on her career, which is another reason why she’s able to get published.  
> \- This is loosely based off my earlier AU drabble of the two, ‘If I Could’, except it’s probably a lot less depressing.  
> \- This was written as a oneshot! I simply divided into 3 parts because it reads easier that way.  
> \- Think of this as the more detailed, more realistic, but still pretty idealistic stepsister of ‘Today She Holds His Gaze’, because it is something like that in my mind.  
> \- As for what kind of magazine Satoshi works for, I was thinking along the lines of a publisher who covers stuff like Japan’s ‘Metropolis’ magazine – a varied one. 
> 
> \- 'Queen Can’t Sleep' is your typical shoujo manga about a girl, Neru (whose name means ‘to sleep’ in the basic sense of the word), with two personalities. In school she’s known as the ice queen. At night, when she logs online though, she turns into this really friendly and kind and popular Internet personality with loads of friends. Which side of her is real? Are both sides of her real? And what happens when one of the boys in class find out about her online identity?  
> \- Ryou got her name from the term ‘ryoushin’, which is Japanese for ‘conscience’. The rest of the random cast do not have as meaningful names. You can guess that ‘Midori’, ‘Ao’ and ‘Akai’ mean green, blue and red respectively because of how superbly uncreative I can be when I think about names for ocs.  
> \- I couldn’t help but give callbacks to Bakuman, the excellent shounen manga that gave me great insight on how the manga industry works and how manga authors go about their daily lives and their careers.  
> \- I picked Nagoya and Tsukuba based on their overall rankings for public universities in Japan that offer Bachelor degrees for Lit. Nagoya’s the 8th best. Tsukuba is like the 10th. 
> 
> \- If Houtarou and Chitanda ever get married, I think Houtarou would probably take on Chitanda as his last name since Chitanda is the bigger family, right? Houtarou Chitanda. Hah. I referred to him post-marriage as 'Houtarou Oreki' though. Anyway, that's not really the point I wanted to talk about. I just think their marriage might be the most obvious signal towards the gang that they can stop calling Chitanda by her last name and start referring to her by her first name.
> 
> \- Mayaka and Satoshi’s relationship in this AU, at least, can be summed up accurately by Houtarou. There’s a lot of running away and a lot of chasing, and as a result a lot of missed opportunities, but never a chance for them to stop and breathe and listen and think for a moment, because both of them are so used to it. And when they finally start trying to do that, maybe things can work out between them?
> 
> \- There are several reasons why I chose to tell this story out of order. One of the less obvious reasons would be because I think if Mayaka and Satoshi were to sift through their memories, it would be something like this. They wouldn’t divide it by time, but rather by the feelings associated with each situation. 
> 
> \- Against my better judgement I did not include the scene where Mayaka and Chitanda go lingerie shopping when Chitanda visits Mayaka in Tokyo because that might have affected the tone of the fic. (But trust me when I say its canon in this fic.) 
> 
> \- Part of me believes that Mayaka wouldn’t have ended QCS that way without Satoshi beside her to support her and tell her ‘yes I think you should push for this ending too’.
> 
> \- I started out the show with Satoshi as my favourite, but very soon after Mayaka became the queen and is the absolute #1 in my heart now. That was unrelated to my decision of the title of this, really.


End file.
